


villains don't get happy endings

by atlasoverthemoon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Killing, M/M, Minor Character Death, Superpowers, Villain!Atsumu, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-21 01:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlasoverthemoon/pseuds/atlasoverthemoon
Summary: Miya Atsumu has had the ability to read minds for as long as he can remember, and now he finds himself as one of the top villains in Tokyo.But, one day, he runs into someone whose mind he can't read. He can't hear a single one of Sakusa Kiyoomi's thoughts, and for once, Atsumu is able to feel normal.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Kudos: 23





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just got the urge to write a supervillain au but the villain is the main character so we get to see their inner-turmoil and whatnot... so of course I made it a sakuatsu with Atsumu as the villain
> 
> I want to keep this fic short, but I'm very excited with how I have it planned. Thank you for giving this a read and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Made a playlist for this fic be that’s apparently my only joy in life:  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/72Og7bsnyZPOtuOElrxDh9?si=uAsIpwYJQROoZnpS_W-d1A

He hears his thoughts before he sees him.

“Ah, Shouyou,” he says with a sickly sweet voice, dripping with poisonous honey, “you’re just in time.” He turns to look over his shoulder just as the orange-haired superhero appears around the corner, coming toward him in a full sprint.

Atsumu smiles to himself. _Perfect_. He pulls his right arm, effectively slitting the throat of the man kneeled on the concrete in front of him. A gurgling sound escapes out of the man as he slumps forward, landing onto the ground of the dark alley with a dull thud. The action causes the superhero to halt in his advancements so quickly it’s as if he had run into an invisible wall. He can’t see the man’s face behind the black, bird-like mask, but he knows what he is thinking. Atsumu always knows what everyone is thinking.

He turns to fully face the superhero, bringing his blood-soaked dagger up to wipe it on the sleeve of his black bodysuit. Shouyou’s thoughts are too scattered, his mind racing with panic. It’s too much, cramming and echoing inside of Atsumu’s own mind like too-loud music. He can feel the beginning of a headache coming on, so he decides he’ll keep this short.

With a faint woosh, a black figure joins them in the narrow alley. _Finally,_ Atsumu thinks to himself. The other man’s thoughts had been banging around in his mind from even before Shouyou had shown up. And Atsumu knows what is about to come out of the second superhero’s mouth before he even speaks.

“How could you,” the second man demands, standing at a height much taller than the first superhero. Even without his mind-reading powers or the many times they have all encountered each other over the years, Atsumu would be able to tell that the two are partners; their bodysuits a dark blue color that appears nearly black and their black masks that come out like a bird’s beak. “That man has a family. This is just _sick_ , Kitsu.”

Atsumu hates the sound of his villain name, especially on the superhero’s tongue. He can’t even remember the last time his real name had been spoken aloud. But he shrugs off the thought, choosing to focus on toying with his two favorite heroes. “All in the day’s work of your city’s greatest villain,” he offers with a shit-eating grin. 

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“Funny, coming from you, Goody-Two-Shoes.” Atsumu turns to the shorter superhero. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave this guy and come to my side, Shouyou.” This comment gets a reaction, as it always does.

“It’s the Little Giant to you. No one is supposed to know our real names,” the taller superhero bites out, clenching a fist around the bow in his left hand.

“Ah, yes, _Tobio_ , because you can definitely keep that information from me.” Atsumu says lightly as if they were talking about the weather, his mouth quirking up into a spiteful smile. He brings a hand up to his temple, running his fingertips over the black mask that covers his eyes. “I know everything about you two. I probably know more than you two even know about each other.” Atsumu barks out a humorless laugh. “Shouyou, did you know that Tobio–” he begins, but is cut off by the sound of an arrow splitting through the air. Atsumu moves quickly, side-stepping the arrow that would have shot straight through his heart. The only reason he was able to move in time was because of that split-second advantage of knowing when Tobio decides to shoot the arrow before he actually does it. Atsumu is sure he would be dead a million times over by now without that. Tobio’s superpower is perfect aim and spatial recognition, which is a completely unfair power in Atsumu’s books, but the gods are not so just as people think. 

Atsumu laughs lowly to himself, the chuckles rumbling from deep within his chest. He shakes his head lightly, looking between the two. “Touchy subject I see,” he says, ignoring the way Tobio’s hands twitch for another arrow. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the sweat and dirt making his locks gritty. A shower sounds nice, and the exhaustion is starting to catch up to his muscles. “Well, I’ll leave this mess to you two. Thanks for being such a great cleanup crew,” Atsumu mocks with a smirk and a wink. Really, this part of being a villain is always nice. He never has to worry about his reputation or about the messes he leaves. He just does what he wants, gets away with it, and the high-and-mighty heroes clean up after him. What more can he ask for?

He turns to leave, but before he can even take more than a single step, Shouyou finally speaks for the first time today. “Kitsu,” he begins, his voice low. Atsumu freezes, his shoulders tensing at the sound. He can hear Shouyou’s thoughts ringing in his head, and he wants nothing more than to rip the intruding words out of his mind. They sound all too familiar, digging up memories that Atsumu has spent years burying under miles of dirt. “Why don’t you just stop,” Shouyou continues. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know. You don’t have to wreak havoc wherever you go. You can be _happy_ ,” he says, as if he knows anything about Atsumu. And now everything in his mind is screaming at him, too many voices mixing with his own. They are all too loud, fighting each other for dominance within his mind and causing his ears to ring.

Atsumu needs to leave now, before he crumbles onto the pavement next to the dead body, clutching his head between his hands and screaming just as loud as the thoughts.

Instead of giving into the thoughts like he used to as a child, Atsumu stands strong. He's used to this. He has learned to live with this power of his.

“Villains don’t get happy endings,” is all he says to the quiet alley before he disappears, his legs carrying him quickly over the buildings and through the city. He knows Shouyou and Tobio can’t follow him, they’d never been able to track him down before. But he still doesn’t stop until he reaches a small farm town on the outskirts of Tokyo where he can finally have some peace and quiet.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of abuse

Atsumu squats on the roof of a large building. The wind whips wildly up here, pushing his blonde hair away from his forehead. The chill is a little nippy, the nights becoming colder as each day creeps closer to winter, but Atsumu pays it no mind. Instead, all of his focus is on the building across from him. He watches through a window on the 46th floor of the skyscraper identical to the one he currently resides on. In the window, he sees his target, his silhouette stark against the yellow light from within the office. He watches the man pace back and forth in front of the large window, his posture indicating that he’s talking to someone on the phone. The distance is too far for Atsumu to be able to hear the man’s thoughts regularly, so he breathes in slowly, closing his eyes and reaching forward with the energy within himself that he has come to know as his powers. He feels his mind reaching across the distance, and within an instant, Atsumu is in the man’s mind. He takes grasp of the other mind now present in his own, and his target’s thoughts are clear as day, ringing in Atsumu’s head with images flashing behind his closed eyes.

But he can’t take it for long, pulling back from the corrupted thoughts that cause hot bile to slowly rise in the back of his throat. He stops the reach with his mind, bringing him back to his own thoughts, with the dull buzz of unfamiliar ones swimming in the back of his head.

It’s his guy alright. In the mind of his target, he had seen flashes of skin beaten black and blue, and from the thoughts he knew it was the man’s wife. Atsumu grits his teeth, remembering the nauseating thoughts the man had swimming around; the overwhelming and misplaced anger, the need for power, and the clawing feeling of pleasure and satisfaction associated with the images.

Atsumu gulps down his queasiness, redirecting it into rage and feels the power within him surge. He opens his eyes, his vision suddenly better and his awareness heightened. And then, the man hangs up the phone and grabs the coat that hangs from his desk chair. The light of the office goes out. That’s Atsumu’s cue to move. He gets up from his crouch then steps up onto the ledge of the roof. He doesn’t have a second thought as he steps off of the side of the building. The wind causes his jacket to flap up around him as he plummets toward the ground. Really, it’s sort of annoying. It would have been easier in his suit, but he couldn’t wear that if he’s going to walk amongst civilians. He’d just stick out like a sore thumb, his target recognizing him immediately.

After a few long seconds of falling, Atsumu reaches the ground. He lands in a low crouch, feeling no strain in his legs from the impact that would have definitely killed any normal person. He straightens and fixes his clothing and hair before he steps out of the alley. He keeps to the shadow, even though nobody would recognize him like this. He always feels too bare without the mask around his eyes.

In his mind, someone stressfully thinks about an exam, another considers eating candy even though they just brushed their teeth. Atsumu quickly moves away from the building and crosses the street until he can no longer hear the thoughts. He had figured out the proximity he needed to be within to just hear someone’s thoughts without even trying when he was young. Actively reaching, Atsumu could read someone’s mind from miles and miles away. Meanwhile, someone just within a 20-foot radius of him would not be able to keep their thoughts from him, even if he didn’t want to hear it. It had taken him a while to get used to the noise in his head, especially in crowds. But this life is all he’s ever known, so of course he found a way to get used to it. He’s learned to dull down the noise, and is now able to focus on one particular person’s thoughts even in a train car packed like sardines.

Atsumu finally reaches the other side of the street and begins walking down the sidewalk toward the entrance of the skyscraper. The streets are completely empty here. There’s just the faintest of noise clawing in the back of his mind, but it is rare that even that noise ever fully left. There was always somebody around for him to hear their thoughts. But he sighed in relief, taking in the bit of silence and having a nice time with just his mind for once. He looks down at his feet as he walks. It’s been a while since he’s been alone with his thoughts. He wonders if the voice in his mind has changed, if that’s how it sounded when he was younger or if it’s shifted because of all the other voices that have been in his head since then. A familiar voice answers back, telling him  _ ‘That’s stupid, ‘Tsumu’ _ , but he knows it’s just his imagination and not an actual person’s thoughts coming into his head.

Then he hears the ringing of a bell and he suddenly walks into something hard. He looks up–actually physically has to look up a bit, which is insane because he’s 6’2–and sees that he’s accidentally walked into a guy.

“Sorry,” Atsumu mumbles, sidestepping the guy and starts to walk away. But then he freezes.  _ It’s too quiet _ . He whirls around, catching the guy’s eye who has yet to start moving again. Atsumu realizes he hadn’t even known the man was there. He hadn’t heard anything, hadn’t been able to read his mind. Without thinking on it any longer, Atsumu grabs onto the man’s shoulders–really, this guy is huge what the fuck–and pushes him up against the side of the building. The building just so happens to be the skyscraper in which his target works. 

Atsumu seethes, baring his teeth at the guy as he brings his forearm across the man’s broad chest. “Who the fuck are you,” he demands through his gritted teeth.

The guy finally seems to wake up from his shock, his face morphing into a look of anger and confusion–or well, his eyes, since the bottom half of the man’s face is covered by a mask. “What the fuck? What are you–I don’t even know who you  _ are, _ ” he says, glaring hard at Atsumu. He really hopes this guy isn’t a super, he is in no mindset to fight right now and he’s even wearing his suit. 

“Bullshit!” he barks, pulling the guy back and then pushing him roughly up against the wall again. “Did Hinata send you?”

“Who?” the man shouts back. “Seriously, I have no clue who you are or who Hinata is. You’ve obviously got the wrong person.” The guy tries to push Atsumu back, nearly doing so as he is surprisingly strong, but Atsumu holds steady, maybe using just a little bit of his power. “Now get your filthy fucking hands  _ off  _ of me,” he barks right back, pure anger and disgust swimming in his onyx eyes.

“Tell me why I can’t hear your thoughts,” Atsumu demands, trying to get back to the seed of their problem. This guy is so infuriating he’s almost glad he doesn’t have his thoughts in his mind.

“I  _ said _ to get  _ off of me _ ,” the guy insists, pushing against Atsumu even more.

Atsumu huffs, not wanting to deal with this stranger’s temper.  _ He _ was supposed to be the angry one right now. “Fine!” he shouts as he lets go and pulls away, but not enough for the man to walk away. “Now, tell me. Why the fuck can’t I read your mind,” he says, staring right into the man’s eyes, like if he tried hard enough he could hear his thoughts.

The man’s thick eyebrows furrow together. “ _ What _ ? What the fu–” then he cuts himself off, his face falling with a short pause. “Oh,” he finally says, his voice lower now, “you’re a super.”

Atsumu bristles. Not only is this guy dodging all of his questions, but he has the audacity to call him a  _ superhero _ . “Something like that.”

The man sighs. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe your powers are just faulty, but that has nothing to do with me. I’m not special, I don’t have powers.”

“Why the hell should I believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”

The man sends him a deadpanned glare, like he’s completely exhausted by the conversation or like Atsumu was nothing but gum on the bottom of his shoe. “Well, maybe if your power actually worked, you’d be able to tell that I’m telling the truth.”

Atsumu growls. “Maybe you’re not actually a hero. You’re too much of a fucking dick.”

“You’re one to talk,” he says with another sigh. “Now can I go? I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Suddenly, Atsumu’s eyes widen.“ _ Shit _ !” 

Without saying another word, he starts sprinting. He had completely forgotten about his target. A string of curses flows past his lips like a mantra. It would be fine if his guy got away, it wasn’t like the missions the heroes had where they got assigned something and had to report everything to their headquarters, but Atsumu had already spent so much time watching this guy and learning his routine. He is not letting the scumbag live another day.

He runs into a narrow alley between two large buildings and stops. He takes a deep breath and quickly reaches out with his mind. Almost instantly, he latches onto the mind of his target, the disturbing thoughts easily recognizable. Atsumu sighs a breath of relief. His target hadn’t gotten far. He leaves the alley and starts jogging toward the man. It had taken a lot of practice when he was in high school, but Atsumu had been able to figure out how to pinpoint people just from reading their minds. It’s probably the one thing about his power he actually likes. Also, maybe knowing whenever someone was about to attack him was nice.

It doesn’t take him long to spot the man. He’s walking through a random back alley. And at this proximity, Atsumu has no control over the man’s thoughts, his mind being bombarded by disgusting thoughts and flashes of memories. Atsumu grits his teeth and decides to end this quickly. 

He pulls the dagger sheathed at his waist, and in a flash, Atsumu has the man incapacitated. He has the man’s arm twisted behind his back as he kneels in front of Atsumu. He doesn’t even do anything about the screams. The guy deserves to beg for his life. And so, Atsumu lets the man cry, lets him scream for mercy as he brings his knife to the man’s throat.

“This is what you get,” is all he says before he drags the blade across his neck. Instantly blood pours from the deep cut. Atsumu lets go of the man’s arm, letting him slump forward onto the cement as he chokes on his own blood. He leans down and wipes his blade off on the back of the man’s suit jacket before sheathing it once again. Even as he watches the pool of crimson on the ground spread, he can’t stop thinking about those obsidian eyes that held no thoughts for Atsumu to hear.

He stands back up. Giving the corpse one last glance, Atsumu leaves. He walks back home, or what he has called home now for the past three years. It takes him a long time to get back to the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo, the horizon beginning to lighten with gold. He enters the quiet house, his mind finally free from other’s minds. He falls asleep almost instantly, not even bothering to shower. He dreams of a life where he was born normal, without the ability to hear people’s thoughts.


End file.
